


Just a glimpse

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester is vane. But Brad thinks there's more to this than everyone sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a glimpse

Chester is vane. Everyone knows it. He’s always looking for approval. Saying “Brad, does this shirt make me look fat?”

Brad, in an apathetic murmur, says “No. Your fat makes you look fat.”

Jokes like this, and Chester’s throwing up in the bathroom for days until Scott Weiland tells him he’s looking good.

This is after Sam has gone, after Talinda came, got pregnant, had an abortion and left. This is sitting at Chester’s dining room table, staring at each other. The singer asks “why do I always get left behind?”

Brad shrugs in his most careless manner, but the thoughts in his head are quite the opposite of the expression on his face. He wonders when Chester will realise that Brad, he’s never ever left him behind.

***

They’re lying on the cool grass of Chester’s back yard. These days, Brad pretty much lives with the older man. The breeze teases their skin in that we’ll-always-be-this-young kind of way and Chester sits up, raking a hand through his hair.

He’s posing; sitting up and resting his weight on one arm, inspecting the nails of his other hand. Month old chipped nail polish – just for effect. He turns and looks down at Brad, asks “What are you thinking?”

“I could just eat a pizza right about now.” Lying with his arms folded behind his head, Brad looks up at Chester and smirks. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t help that I’m hungry.”

There’s a tense silence that stretches for endless minutes. It’s as if everything is on the edge, waiting for something big. Eventually, Brad catches on and asks “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that...you know how...it doesn’t matter.”

It doesn’t, but Brad presses on anyway “What? What’s wrong?”

Chester lies back down again, graceful and rehearsed, says “What will your eulogy for me be like?”

“Fuck, Chester. For once, just shut up.”

“Hear me out,” the singer urges, rolling onto his side and picking invisible lint from Brad’s shirt “I mean...we all die some day. I’m just curious...I don’t want you to be saying shit about me at my funeral.”

“What do you want me to say?” Brad asks after a moment. He rolls over to face Chester, their noses brush together and the guitarist sighs.

Whispering, the singer drapes a hand over Brad’s side and pulls him closer “I want you to remind everyone that I was beautiful. That I was smart. Because you know I’m smart, right?”

“Right. Beautiful, smart. What else?”

Lifting up Brad’s shirt, Chester draws small circles on the other man’s flesh. Brad, he shivers from the touch. “Tell them I was funny. Witty. I was...tell them I always loved my son. Remind them that Talinda killed her child without my persuasion. Tell them...I’m not like...tell them I loved her and Sam.”

Brad just nods, lowers his eyes and watches Chester’s lips as he speaks. He wants Brad to tell everyone what a brilliant person he was, but Brad just wants to kiss him right now.

“Tell them I’m grateful. Tell them I’m sorry that I killed myself.”

Brad pushes himself away from Chester’s embrace and shakily gets to his feet “Grateful. Sorry. Right.”

Chester is vane. But Brad thinks that maybe there’s more to this than everyone sees.


End file.
